


petrichor on the horizon

by spideywhiteys



Series: 365 Days of Naruto AUs [31]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - My Hero Academia Fusion, Coffee Shops, Depression Recovery, Hatake Sakumo's wife - Freeform, M/M, References to Depression, bnha au, damn uchiha's smh, indra the pro hero, oh my god she dead, sakumo the sad retired hero raising kakashi the hellion, they're like...interested in each other but also emotionally stagnant, will i populate this ship tag on my own?, yes absolutely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:40:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29121339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spideywhiteys/pseuds/spideywhiteys
Summary: Sakumo has spent years recovering, lost in a fog but forcing his limbs to move for the sake of his son. So when the clouds finally part, he realizes that somehow he's managed to make it back on his feet without even noticing. And waiting patiently at his side is a man with warm hands and sanguine eyes.
Relationships: Ootsutsuki Indra/Hatake Sakumo
Series: 365 Days of Naruto AUs [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086938
Kudos: 13





	petrichor on the horizon

**Author's Note:**

> Day 31: BNHA AU / Sakumo + Indra

The rain comes on a Saturday. He smells it hours before, nose pointed to an overcast sky, the same shade of silvery-gray as his hair. He doesn’t go to her grave, but he doesn’t wish to stay home. It’s not oppressive like it used to be years ago, back when everything was raw. But it’s that lack of hurt that feels odd. A part of him will always love his wife — his love is not worth so little, he hopes to think — but it’s not painful anymore. The memories are happy and wreathed in nostalgia. 

He walks the streets in the rain, wolfish ears pressed flat to his head. His mouth is a cavern of teeth, a spark of danger on an otherwise handsome face. An  _ aged _ face, because he’s pushing forty and his son is already entering middle school. Forty isn’t terribly old, but it’s older than  _ she _ ever got to be.

Kakashi is the perfect blend of them both. His face is a little softer than Sakumo’s, even sporting the same beauty mark at his mouth. He has Sakumo’s hair and eyes, though, and perhaps the same nose and cheekbones.

A mix of their quirks.

Sakumo’s wolfish features — the ears, teeth, claws, tail, senses — and  _ her _ lightning. As a child, Kakashi had shocked them both accidentally. Small sparks, like you get from static. It’s a little more dangerous now, but Kakashi is a genius who seems to have a great understanding of his ability. Which isn’t as great as one would think, because try as he might, Sakumo can’t seem to get Kakashi to socialize properly. So now he has a son who thinks he’s better than most — and whether he’s right or wrong isn’t relevant — and no idea how to handle him. 

Sakumo retired from being a pro hero after his wife’s death. His tenure was far shorter than most, who generally kept on until they were dust and bones. But he had a son to raise and grief to deal with. Depression. All those fun things. 

So Sakumo doesn’t go to her grave. He wanders around with an umbrella over his head, thinking of life and its intricacies and where he is now. If it’s where he ever expected to be.

It’s not, really. Not in most ways. But a little in others.

There’s a tea shop a few streets over, one with a pretty blue door and a pot of gardenias. The owner has a quirk that does nothing more than produce aromas, so the place always smells like a freshly flowered garden — sweet nectar and warm earth, mixed with the scent of whatever tea is brewing, or the sharpness of ground coffee beans. 

It’s where his feet take him, and the path is familiar. Petrichor fills his nostrils all the way up to when he opens the door, a bell chiming softly above his head. Then he’s hit with warmth and familiarity, his tail uncurling from his back. He’s used this place as his sanctuary whenever being home gets to be too much. It’s a place that belongs to just him — not  _ them,  _ her ghost won’t follow him here — and sometimes he needs that. 

“Oh, you’re here.” He murmurs, dark eyes meeting crimson. 

Uchiha Indra lowers his lashes, his lips barely curving. This is the same as a grin, so Sakumo returns the subtle greeting with his own wide smile. The Uchiha is sat at the usual table, somehow always here whenever Sakumo needs a presence aside from his own. Still a pro-hero, Indra seems to populate this little tea shop whenever he gets the chance. He must be just off a shift, because he’s still in his hero outfit.

Sakumo sits without prompting, their interactions almost routine at this point. There’s a warmth growing in his chest that chases away the rest of the day’s lingering chill. His ears flick up. Indra does not smile, but his eyes follow the movement with a lightness to his carmine gaze that might as well be one. Sakumo has gotten rather good at figuring out all the subtle nuances the other man uses to communicate.

“Good shift?”

Indra dips his head. “Rather unexciting, luckily. Any sign of crime rates dropping is satisfactory.”

Sakumo flashes a grin that’s too many teeth, but Indra has never shied away from such a display. If anything he leans closer, imperceptibly, eyes hooded and too interested and sometimes...sometimes Sakumo doesn’t know what to think. 

“Oh? Well that’s a relief.” A server brings over his usual order without prompting. They know him far too well here with how frequently he stops by. Sakumo takes a sip of the herbal tea before continuing. “And? How’s your new sidekick? It’s your cousin, yes? The younger one.”

Indra exhales softly, knowing Sakumo far too well — knowing he’s a welcome distraction, and perhaps that’s the reason for the heady pride in those eyes and on his pretty face. “Fugaku. He’s doing well. Rather nervous, when he thinks no one can see.”

“He’s got the family quirk, and  _ you _ guiding him.” Sakumo says. “He’ll be fine.”

Indra’s mouth quirks again, this time a little more pronounced. His hand reaches out, purposeful, brushing Sakumo’s fingers — and his hands are just as warm as the cup of tea, hot like a branding iron. 

“So will you.”

Sakumo’s ears burn red. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Indra echoes.

And maybe he’s right.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow / Support me on [Tumblr](https://spideyfoof.tumblr.com/) and let me know if you'd like to see more of this AU!


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